When Tom says what you know he’s going to say about Karen you’re going to lose your shit. You knew it was coming and you know it’s partially true, but that doesn’t really matter, does it? He still had no right to say that about your fiancé. And the only thing that could ever make it feel alright for you is slamming your fist into his big, fat self important face.
Unfortunately Tom has a lot of weight on you, and he’s been in many more fights during his lifetime than you have, so once you’ve hit him he’s going to hit you back harder and in a much more sensitive place. Before he even knows what he’s doing you’ll be holding the ruined swath of face and cartiledge that used to be your nose.
The moment the punch connects his body will go slack. His arms will snap back to a fighting stance, then drop to his sides. He’ll try to grab your shoulders, to apologize, but you’ll just shove him away with all of your body weight, flinging blood and snot all over him.
He’ll try to tell you that he didn’t mean it, that he’s just drunk, but you won’t hear him. You’ll already have ripped your friendship bracelet off and tossed at him, screaming “Fucker” at the top of your lungs as you walk away. He’ll stand there covered in blood, holding that camp relic of your friendship limply as he watches you flag a cab.
And that is how it will end: a fiancé you know is cheating on you, a best friend who only wants you to be happy and your pretty face all smashed up.
Good luck on finding a new best man, and congratulations on having your nose broken.
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